


the pilot and the prince.

by orphan_account



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Child Abuse, Multi, Rape/Non-con Elements, Suicide, basically a super fuckin dark little prince au, uhhhhh okay fuck this is dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 06:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Andrew and Neil live next door to each other, living their own personal hell. Then one day, they get to talking, and create a story together. A story about a Pilot and a Prince. Neil writes the stories, and Andrew helps them come to life. Until Drake finds out about it, and Andrew is forced to push Neil away.orA little prince au in which Andrew and Neil create a story about the Little Prince and the Pilot, and somehow, make their own stories along the way.





	the pilot and the prince.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay sooooo heads up, TW Suicide, Self harm, Child abuse, and Rape.   
This has super heavy themes in it, but i Am someone who's experienced some of this stuff, but if any of you would like this altered in any way, or deleted, hmu and i'll do it immediately!

Andrew laid on the bed, for once, not hurting and not bleeding. Still, he couldn’t fall asleep. Thoughts of Neil and the Pilot and his very own Little Prince crowded his mind, begging for attention and keeping sleep at bay. 

He and Neil had both agreed that the Pilot was Neil’s, and the Little Prince was Andrew’s, but Neil had admitted that he still imagined up stories with the Prince. Neil always had another idea, another plotline in mind, but Andrew didn’t think that way. 

Neil would give him the messy, handwritten pages, and he’d draw them out how he saw it in his mind. Neil talked about how well another character would work, or ask Andrew how the Prince and the Pilot would find water in the desert, and Andrew would always answer back in small sentences that helped nothing, and Neil would come to his own decision. 

That was how it worked. Neil wrote the stories, and Andrew made them clearer, refining them and making proof of the Prince’s and Pilot’s adventures through art. It was the only good thing he had, this little story he shared with Neil, besides Cass. 

And even Cass was tainted.

Andrew tried to keep Drake and Cass out of his mind. It was a good night. Drake had gone to a boot camp for the week, and he’d been left all alone to his own devices, to either sneak out to meet Neil, or do something pleasant with Cass.

So he brought out the expensive colored pencils that Neil had bought him, and started to create. 

x

For once, Neil’s father was in a good mood. Apparently, a business deal had gone very well, and Nathan wouldn’t stop bragging about how much money he made. Mary smiled widely, happy looking to anybody who wasn’t Neil. 

Nathan’s hand kept creeping up Mary’s arm, higher and higher until it reached the juncture between her shoulder and her neck. She wrapped her hand around Nathan’s, fake desire written all over, and Nathan grinned his shark’s smile, leaned in, and kissed Mary. 

Neil looked away. 

No matter how many times Nathan kissed Mary, it never got any better. He hated it, but there was nothing he could do. So Neil ignored it, picking at his food, waiting for the moment he could rush upstairs and continue the story of how the Little Prince and the Pilot managed to find a mysterious well. 

As soon as the clock hit seven pm, Neil raised his head high and asked, “May I go up, Father?” 

Nathan’s head whipped up, and his shark smile slipped into something a little less gloating. “Have you finished your lessons?” 

“Yes, Father.” 

“Then go up, Nathaniel. Don’t make any noise up there. And there better not be anything on the ground.” 

Nathan was _definitely_ in a good mood. Usually, he’d scowl, snarl a bit, maybe even smack Neil around, before sending him up. Neil swallowed his disgust at the heavy hand Nathan had on his mother, before going up the stares, careful to make his steps silent. 

x

Andrew laid on his sheets, too tired to move. Fifteen minutes had already passed, and still, he couldn’t find the energy to sit up. The sheets would have to be changed, and cleaning up the mess was always hard, but tonight it didn’t seem worth it. 

Only, he’d promised Neil the next set of drawings. 

There were still two pages left to color in, and if he hurried now, he could clean everything up, and still have time to hastily color the lines. Andrew kept reminding himself of the neat stack of papers and perfectly pointed colored pencils while he removed the sheets, and put them in the dryer. 

Drake hadn’t found them yet. 

And he wouldn’t ever. 

They were stashed under the one creaky floorboard, in a neat stack, waiting to be picked up. So Andrew took them out, and began to pull out the still grey drawings, when the door opened. 

“-hey little bro, I left my belt in here, cause I was in such a-” 

Andrew’s heart pounded in his chest. 

He watched Drake’s eyes scan the papers in his hands, then the colored pencils in their case. Watched as the casual grin widened into something far more sinister. 

“What’s this, little bro? How’d you get pencils so nice? Did Cass get them for you? Or-” 

On the desk, lit up by the stupid dim lamp that would never get brighter, there was a fully colored drawing of the Pilot, in all his blue-eyed, red-haired splendor. 

“Hey, I know this kid. It’s the pretty boy next door, isn’t he? Nathan or some shit,” Drake said. “He your friend? Or maybe even your boyfriend. Such a shame, AJ. I thought you were all mine.” 

Andrew could only shake his head. He tried to hide the papers behind his back, but Drake stepped forward swiftly and ripped them out. This was his worst nightmare come to life. 

“He’s real pretty, isn’t he? Is that why you’re drawing him up in all these nice clothes?” Drake wouldn’t shut up, teeth glinting with delight. “Bet he’d look prettier next to you, both of you underneath me. Like a rainbow.”

“Don’t.” Andrew whispered. 

“Don’t what? Hey, how ‘bout you invite him over, tomorrow?” Drake laughed. 

Andrew couldn’t let that happen. Neil didn’t deserve this. He already had an asshole father and a strange, quiet mother who dragged him place to place all the time. But how was he supposed to tell Neil?

_Hey, so I know this sounds pretty weird, but my foster brother is a rapist who wants you, so stay the hell away if you want to live._

No. 

Neil didn’t have to know. 

Maybe Andrew could just push him away. That would work. He’d give back all the drawings and lock his door and maybe even shove him if he came too close. 

He looked back up with purpose. 

“Get out, Drake.”

Drake’s smile faltered. “What?”

“You’ve already had your fun. I need to get ready for school. Cass will come in soon.” said Andrew.

“Feisty,” said Drake. “Alright then, AJ. We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”

Andrew just nodded. 

x

Neil didn’t know what the hell happened. 

One day, he’d handed Andrew the papers, and Andrew had smiled back. 

The next, Neil had found all the adventures he’d written ripped up and dumped on his porch. It was unmistakably Andrew. Only Andrew knew about the stories. 

There was writing on some of the salvaged pages, too, which was weird, because Andrew didn’t write. He drew. 

It said, 

_Leave me alone._

Neil was angry at that. He’d given all the stories he’d written to Andrew, and he’d just ripped all of them up like that hadn’t been proof of hours and hours spent in his room, writing till his hand cramped, ignoring the screams of his mother and father. 

So he left Andrew alone. 

Didn’t ring his doorbell, didn’t leave pages in their secret spot for Andrew. Once, his creepy older brother had run the doorbell, but Mary had turned him away with harsh words. 

x

Weeks passed and school started. Andrew was entering eighth grade and Neil seventh grade, both of them(unfortunately)at the same school. 

Sometimes, Neil saw Andrew hunched over in the halls, eating his lunch, or trudging to classes, but mostly, they were content to ignore each other. 

But Neil wasn’t content. 

Nathan was becoming more volatile, angry, ready to snap at the slightest infraction. Nowadays, there were more bruises on Neil’s front and back than skin. Mary wasn’t better off. 

He tried to write about the Pilot by himself, but it just didn’t feel right. No matter that the Pilot was Neil’s. The Pilot had somehow become intertwined with the Little Prince. 

Neil stopped writing about the Pilot. Stopped writing at all, actually. 

Life became grey again. Wake up, eat, go to school, tune everything out, go home, eat, sleep. He still maintained perfect grades through sheer will and borrowed notes, but the appeal dropped. 

Tears no longer fell, and Mary’s gaze grew duller every day. Her bright eyes dimmed and dimmed until he could no longer see the light. She sat around the house, motionless until Nathan came back. 

Then she left. 

Apparently, she’d gone back to her brother, Stuart in Britain. Neil wished that she’d taken him with her, until he didn’t. 

The dinner table was always set for two. 

Along with homework, Neil did the dishes and made the food, did all the chores and kept the house spotless. It was tedious, but at least it still distracted him. 

Life made his eyes duller, too. 

x

Drake was leaving for the real military soon. 

Naturally, that meant he spent almost every night in Andrew’s room, ‘making the most of the time he had left.’ 

But it also meant that he could finally have Cass. Fully, without hiding his limp or pushing down his sleeves. Smiling, loving Cass. The only good thing he had left in his life. 

The Little Prince was shoved far, far, back into his mind. The Pilot even further. Sometimes, he glimpsed Neil at school, but he always ducked into his hood. 

Everything was breaking in his chest, but that was fine. Soon, Drake would leave and with him all the horrible memories, leaving only the pure ones with Cass. More cuts on his arm appeared, made in the school bathroom or in the bathtub at his house. They ached and stung, but it felt good. 

But one night, he just couldn’t take it. The shiny razor just couldn’t wash away all the ache in his chest. Panic was taking over, and he couldn’t get out. So instead, Andrew chose to leave it in the house. 

The window was fairly easy to open quietly, and even easier to slip through and into the cool night. Pretty soon, he was regretting not bringing a jacket, but at least the cold eased the tightness in his chest. 

Andrew walked out to the little field at the edge of the forest that kids at school always said haunted. At least here nobody would interrupt. 

Only, crunching footsteps behind him told Andrew that someone did, in fact interrupt. 

_”Andrew?”_

His head whipped around, and lo and behold, Neil stood, grey hoodie on and standing over Andrew.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Andrew said. 

“To escape home, I guess.” said Neil. Melancholy and dramatic as always. “What are you doing here?” 

Andrew nodded, gesturing vaguely, as if to say, _same._

They sat together, in the damp grass, waiting for something to appear, morning to come, or for the other to speak. 

It was Neil who broke first. 

“I want to resolve the Pilot and the Little Prince,” he muttered. “Something like- ending both of the stories.” 

“Why?” Andrew asked. 

“Why not? You keep ignoring me and I leave you alone, and it just feels empty to let the Pilot and the Prince wander the desert forever.” 

Andrew leaned back, into the grass, spreading his arms, before remembering that he didn’t have any sleeves on. His cuts were on full, bloody display. He almost snatched them back to wrap them around his stomach, before Neil whispered, “It’s okay.” 

He watched Neil push his sleeves to reveal bruises on bruises, like an abstract painting. 

“I know they’re not the same, but I just- I understand,” said Neil. “I know what it’s like to feel so trapped that you need an outlet.”

Andrew nodded, and blinked when a cold breeze draped around the two of them. 

“You’re right.” 

Neil blinked. “About what?” 

“About ending the stories.” Andrew’s jackhammering heart settled. “Maybe- a snake? A venomous snake? It’s a quick, painless death if you find the right snake. That way, they both get to escape.” 

Neil’s head tilted, and Andrew could tell he was mulling over the idea. 

“Okay.” 

Then Neil opened his mouth, and words poured out of his mouth, just like they had flowed from his brain to his pen to the paper. It was surprisingly smooth, structured, and the dialogue felt just as real as it did in the summer. 

“-and the Little Prince picked up a rock to throw, the Pilot examining the bushes, when-” 

“Wait,” Andrew spoke. “I don’t have any paper. To draw.” 

“That’s okay. You’re thinking it in your mind, right? The scene?” Neil asked. Andrew nodded. “Then it’s the same. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not real. Everything is temporary.” 

Andrew snorted before he could stop it. “You sound like my philosophy teacher.” 

Neil laughed hard, harder than the comment warranted, but Andrew drank the sound in all the same. The two continued, Neil creating poetry and worlds, and Andrew painting the picture in his mind. 

Until Neil stopped, lips pressing together abruptly. Andrew looked away, almost guilty that he’d caught himself looking at Neil’s mouth. 

“You know, a snake would solve our problems, too.” 

Andrew twisted around, looked at him strangely. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, we both want to leave here, and we don’t have any way of leaving, but a snake could help us. I know there are rattlesnakes around here somewhere.” 

Andrew wanted to interrupt; to say that he didn’t want to leave, Cass was here, but he knew. Cass wasn’t enough. He did want to leave. 

Neil continued. “I mean, obviously I don’t want to die, but that’s probably better than what I’m living right now. What about you?” 

“Same.” 

“Then let’s find a rattlesnake!” Neil looked way too enthused to be looking for a venomous snake to commit suicide with. He jumped up, shook the dew off his sneakers, and held out his hand, eyes glinting. He looked too alive to be real. 

“Come on, Andrew. It’s going to be morning in a couple hours, and I want to find the snake by then.” 

So Andrew took Neil’s hand, clasped it tight, and let himself be tugged up. Into the woods. To find a suicide device. 

x

They found a rattlesnake hissing in the dirt an hour later. They were both covered in dirt and leaves, and Neil had the snake, hoodied hand clamped around its jaw. It was very angry. 

Neil emerged back to a small clearing, and smiled. “We got one!” 

“Yes, I know, I was the one who stepped on it.” Andrew said. But he was content. 

“Okay, okay, okay. So who’s gonna go first?” 

“Do you want to be first?” Andrew murmured. 

“Sure. I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference.” 

Andrew’s heart was pounding in his chest. They were going to do it. They were going to have a snake bite them and they were going to die tonight, together. 

Neil let out a sigh, and shuddered. “I’m scared,” he said. 

“I know. I am too.” Andrew responded. 

Neil inhaled, exhaled. Once, twice, before gripping the rattlesnake more firmly, and held out his wrist to its snapping mouth. 

“Thanks, Mr. Snake,” Neil gasped, before pressing the head down. 

Andrew could see the fangs enter the pale skin, imagined the venom pulsing through, like syringes. 

He cringed. “My turn,” Andrew declared. 

Neil handed over the snake with little care, still staring at the tiny puncture wounds. 

Still, he looked over when Andrew put up to his arm, and closed his eyes. 

“Send us to the afterlife,” he blurted, and let the head rear back and strike. It hurt. How had Neil not gasped at this? 

Andrew squeezed his non-bitten hand, and flung the snake away as far as he could. Neil had already sat down on the muddy dirt, eyes wide. 

“We did it.” 

_”We did it.”_ Andrew agreed. 

He sat down too. Then lay down. 

“So do we just wait?” asked Neil. 

“Probably.” 

“Thanks. For the first summer I had fun in.” added Neil. 

“Thanks. For giving me a reason to live until now.” Andrew said. 

The two waited, and waited. They didn’t feel much, besides the pounding of their hearts. Until something seized Andrew’s head. It felt like the time he’d found a cup of wine in the house at dark, and drank all of it. 

Before he closed his eyes, he saw Neil’s bright blue eyes blink slowly, and heard him say, “I guess both our stories are over now.”


End file.
